Life of Secrets
by Brightbear
Summary: After learning about Tom's true identity, Ellie needs someone to talk to.


LIFE OF SECRETS

Author: Brightbear

Disclaimer: Spooks/MI5 does not belong to me. It belongs to Kudos, the BBC and many other people who are not me. Unfortunately.

Rating: General

Spoilers: Set during episode four of the first season: Trust or Traitor's Gate.

Summary: After being told about Tom's true identity, Ellie finds somebody to talk to.

Notes: Big thankyou to my Dad, who beta-read for me.

* * *

Ellie fell asleep on the couch. She'd been working at the restaurant until eleven. Then she'd sat down on the coach with the intention of talking to Math... Tom, the moment he came home. Midnight came and went. One o'clock came and went. Tom still hadn't appeared and Ellie fell asleep in her clothes. 

The first thing she noticed when she woke up was that she was wrapped in a blanket. It was a coffee coloured blanket that Tom usually kept in the hall closet. Tom must have laid it over her. The next thing she noticed was that morning sunlight was coming in through the living room windows. The clock said it was twenty past six.

She sat up, wincing at the numbness in her right hand and the pain in her neck. The couch had not been the most comfortable place to fall asleep. She was annoyed at Tom for leaving her on the couch so that he wouldn't have to talk to her.

The phone rang. Wiping sleep out of her eyes, she reached groggily for the phone.

"Hello?" she asked.

There didn't seem any point in answering with 'Mathew Archer's house' now that she knew that wasn't his real name. However, she wasn't about to answer with 'Tom Quinn' either.

"Hello," said a voice.

Ellie found herself analysing the voice. Was this _them? _The voice sounded like that of an older man. The voice sounded hesitant, uncertain. _Good_, thought Ellie. _Now you know how I feel._

"Is Mathew... or Tom, there?"

He recovered that well, she thought. There was silence while the voice on the other end of the phone waited for Ellie to respond. If this man worked with Tom, he could have seen files about Ellie. Tom had said they had 'vetted' her. _Did they all know about her? Was she the latest gossip around the water cooler or at the canteen that Tom had said existed?_

"Who is this?" asked Ellie, keeping her voice even.

The voice on the other end paused again, reluctant to answer.

"Can you... can you tell him it's Harold?"

Not 'my name is Harold', not 'I know Tom'. Just 'tell him'. Hand the phone over to Tom so that I don't have to talk to you anymore.

Ellie didn't feel like following instructions this morning.

"No," she said and hung up.

In the office, Harry listened in irritable disbelief.

"No," said the woman and she hung up.

An MI5 agent with suspect loyalty was missing, a bureaucrat had just told him that one of his other agents was into credit card fraud, MI6's Jools Siviter was marching about complaining of MI5 incompetence and his best officer was unavailable because his girlfriend had 'issues'.

Harry quashed the impulse to pound the desk in frustration.

"One problem at a time, old boy," he told himself.

Zoe was already on her way in to Thames House. Harry would just breathe deeply and put up with the bureaucrats while he informed the rest of the team that Danny had confessed to credit card fraud. Then he would summon Danny and get him to confess. Then they would all sit down and work out where to start looking for their missing agent. Problem was, Tom knew the missing agent best. Tom had been the one to spot that the agent's loyalty was unsteady in the first place. Tom was the most likely to have anything to contribute to the search but Tom wasn't here because his sodding girlfriend...

Calm down. Calm. Maybe Tom will ring in. Maybe his girlfriend will tell him I rang. Maybe hell will freeze over.

Harry sighed and rested his head on his hand. There was a reason he disliked 'mixed affairs' - relationships between agents and civilians. He'd tried to hint that Tom should avoid them but Tom was either oblivious to the hints or he was ignoring Harry's advice.

Mind you, I don't follow my own advice. My marriage is a 'mixed affair'. I know the kind of problems that come up.

He paused in mid-frown as an idea occurred to him. He picked up the phone and dialled an outside line. The phone rang four times before a voice answered.

"Dr Pearce," said a woman's voice cheerily.

"Judith," said Harry warmly. "I was wondering if you'd do me a favour..."

The creaking of the stair told Ellie that somebody else was awake. Maisie never moved from her bed without Ellie standing over her, uttering threats, so by process of elimination it must be Tom. She turned to watch him come down the stairs towards her.

"Was that the phone?" he asked.

No 'good morning' or 'how are you'. Just a demand for information. Am I a secretary?

"No," said Ellie quickly.

Tom didn't pause on his way down the stairs but he frowned as if he knew that she was lying. He walked straight past her to where his coat hung in the hall.

Ellie sat there and watched as he pulled out his mobile and dialled a number. She listened as he answered briskly; like he was aware Ellie was listening closely.

"Hi. Yeah. Mobile was off... I'll be right there."

He looked like the same man that Ellie thought she knew but his voice was flat and his face was carefully devoid of emotion. He turned around and walked back to the stairs.

"God, Ellie...," he began dully.

"What?" she snapped.

He blinked at her but gave no other reaction, no other sign of emotion.

"...I have to go, I'm sorry."

She heard the tiredness creeping into his tone.

"It's twenty past six," she said, unable to sound calm. "What time did you get in?"

She was surprised to hear that her voice sounded less angry than shocked. Again Tom blinked at her tone.

"I don't know. After two," he offered, eyeing her warily.

"You said you were going out for a drink," she reminded him, hearing her own anger back again.

"I've got to shower," said Tom blandly.

Then he was gone. Ellie sat watching the empty stairs.

She sat and listened to him moving around for a while. Once she was sure that Tom was in the shower, Ellie got to her feet and walked upstairs to the empty bedroom. She changed out of the clothes she'd fallen asleep in and went downstairs to the kitchen.

Ellie was halfway through her coffee when the shower finally stopped. _He was in there longer than usual. Are you avoiding me, Tom?_

She picked up her coffee and walked into the bathroom. Tom didn't seem to notice her come in. He was dressed in his blue dressing gown, hair still wet and fingering one of his razors uncertainly.

Okay. Be firm but calm.

"Who's Harold?" she asked sharply.

Too sharp.

Tom turned to her, half surprised at her presence and half hurt at her tone. He looked at her for a moment, tapping the plastic edge of the razor.

"If somebody rings," he said, still emotionless. "It might be important. So, please, tell me what they say."

So you won't tell me anything but you expect me to tell you everything, Tom? That's not the way it works.

"You're going to have to tell me," said Ellie calmly. "All of it. Once."

She turned away and walked out of the bathroom, still clutching the coffee.

Ellie dropped Maisie at school and returned home to Tom's empty flat. There were letters in the letterbox addressed to Matthew Archer. Ellie threw them in the bin. Then she pulled them out, wiped the food off them and put them on the living room table.

Tom can decide if they're important or just trash.

She returned to the kitchen and began to pull out cooking books. Owning a restaurant had given her a new appreciation for food. She found a recipe for chocolate chip biscuits. She was reaching for the flour in Tom's pantry when she began to cry.

Tom's pantry never had any cooking ingredients before Maisie and I came here. Is he really that bad at cooking or does he just pretend?

She abandoned the pantry and sat on the kitchen stool, crying and hiccupping. When the telephone rang, it made her jump.

She looked at it dumbly for a moment and then wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She grabbed a tissue from the box on the bench and blew her nose hard. With a deep breath, she picked up the receiver.

Who will it be now? Harold again?

"Hello?" asked Ellie hesitantly.

"Good morning," answered a chirpy voice. "Am I talking with Ellie Simm?"

Does everybody in the entire world know who I am?

"Who wants to know?" she said sharply.

The voice on the other end paused. Ellie wondered if they were going to hang up.

"My name is Judith," said the voice. "We haven't met before."

The voice of an older woman.

Ellie said nothing.

"My husband works with your boyfriend, I believe. I know you're probably very uncomfortableabout your boyfriend's line of work at the moment, but will you please hear me out?"

The voice paused, waiting for a response.

I should say no to this.

"Make it quick," said Ellie.

She reached for another tissue.

"I've been married to my husband for over twenty years but I still remember what it was like the day he told me what he did for a living. I just wanted to say that if you wanted to talk, you could talk to me. You can even just complain, if that's what you want to do. I don't work for the... civil service, I'm just married to one of them. I won't tell either of the men what you say to me. It'll be just between us girls."

Ellie looked around Tom's kitchen.

Do you know how to get Tom to answer my questions, Judith?

"You won't tell anybody?"

"No."

"And I can say no if I want?"

"Of course, dear. This isn't an official request."

She stared at Tom's fridge. At the picture that Maisie had drawn months ago.

My family - Mummy, me and Matthew. Except that Matthew is now Tom. Can Tom ever be the same as Matthew?

"All right," Ellie said. "Let's talk."

Ellie sat at the cafe and watched the cars drive by. A young blonde woman got out of a taxi and walked into the cafe. Ellie stood up but the blonde walked straight past her. A middle-aged couple walked in from across the street and sat down. She began to wonder if she'd been stood up.

If this is a joke, it's not funny.

A couple of teenagers strolled in, followed by an older woman in her fifties. The older woman walked up to the blonde where she sat at a table by herself.

"Excuse me, dear. Are you Ellie?" asked the older woman.

Don't you know what I look like, Judith?

Ellie didn't hear the blonde's reply but she saw the abrupt shake of the head. As the older woman walked away frowning, the blonde looked after her scornfully. Ellie looked at the older woman, presumably the mysterious Judith.

She was definitely in her fifties, that was as evident from the lines around her eyes as it was from the severe bun that she'd pulled her hair into. She was dressed in a conservative skirt and blouse. Her hair was greying but still showed its blonde origins. Her face was open, friendly and genuinely puzzled.

The woman turned and spotted Ellie. She and Ellie regarded each other for a moment and then the woman approached Ellie's table.

"Excuse me, dear," asked the woman. "Are you Ellie?"

"Judith?" asked Ellie.

The woman nodded and sat at Ellie's table. Ellie stared at her for a moment.

"Do you mind if I order a coffee, dear?" asked Judith, apparently unphased by Ellie's staring. "Only I've had a busy morning."

"No," said Ellie, her instincts as a restaurant hostess kicking in. "Please, go ahead."

Judith smiled and waved for a waiter.

At least you seem genuine, Judith. But I thought Tom was genuine too. How long before you start to make mistakes and I realise that you're lying?

Judith finally seemed to notice that Ellie was staring. She cocked her head at Ellie, smiling and indulgent.

"Well," said Judith. "How do you want to do this? Do you want to tell me about things? You can ask me questions if you like, provided you don't say certain things out loud. Or I can just tell you about myself."

Will you answer my questions, Judith?

"Your husband works with my boyfriend?" prompted Ellie.

"Yes," Judith nodded.

Judith offered nothing further.

That's not good enough.

Ellie glared and Judith jumped suddenly, as if realising what she'd done wrong.

"If you want details, I'm afraid I don't have many, dear," shrugged Judith. "I understand that your boyfriend... sorry, don't know his name... is junior to my Harry. Harry's my husband, by the way."

"That wouldn't be Harold, would it?" asked Ellie casually.

"Yes, dear," smiled Judith, looking pleased. "Did your young man mention him?"

Are you just as eager for details as I am, Judith?

"Harold rang our house this morning."

There was a pause as the waiter arrived with Judith's coffee. Judith emptied an obscene amount of sugar into it and sat stirring it for a moment until the waiter wandered back out of earshot.

"It was Harry who rang me actually," said Judith idly. "Said who you were and said you might be a bit upset. I thought it was unusually perceptive of him. _A bit upset?_

"He's not usually perceptive?" asked Ellie dryly.

Judith peered at her over the top of her coffee cup, "He's a man, dear. You'll find they almost never are."

Ellie laughed and clamped a hand over her mouth. Judith smiled at her.

"That's all they are, dear," continued Judith, waving her spoon about to emphasise her point. "Men. With unusual jobs but men, nevertheless."

"Most civil servants don't come home with gunshot wounds," Ellie pointed out.

"No, they don't," said Judith. "That can take a bit of getting used to."

She lifted her coffee cup to her lips and took a long sip. Ellie spread her fingers out across the tablecloth, wishing she'd ordered a drink of her own. There were butterflies in Ellie's stomach.

Now we'll see if you can answer my questions, Judith.

"What if I can't?" asked Ellie tensely.

"What if you can't what, dear?" asked Judith.

"Get used to it."

Judith put down her coffee cup and shrugged.

"That is an option, dear," said Judith sadly. "But, unfortunately, your man has probably been used to this kind of thing for a long time. After a while, they start to forget and take it for granted that that is the way the world works."

The same way Tom seemed to think that he could play down the seriousness of the fact that somebody shot him. The way he could avoid the subject by talking about canteens and pensions.

Judith was still looking at her, "If you're going to be shocked, dear, I'm afraid you're going to have to do it on your own."

Do you mean I can't share this with him? That I have to start hiding things from Tom, the way he hides things from me?

"I don't think I can do this all on my own," said Ellie, clenching the tablecloth between her fingers. "And I shouldn't have to."

"Sorry, dear. Poor choice of words," said Judith, looking worried. "I meant, your man will not be shocked like you are but that doesn't mean you can't tell him how you feel. In fact, if he's a half-decent man he probably wants to know if you're upset."

Ellie remembered the way Tom had watched her face when he'd told her the truth. Watched her with a guilty fear she'd been too upset to respond to.

Was that you trying to break the news gently, Tom?

Judith picked up her coffee cup again and stirred it again.

"Remember, dear, you have the option to not get used to it. You can leave this whole civil service scene and never think about it again for the rest of your life," said Judith carefully. "Your man can't do that."

Tom will never be free of MI5? If I want Tom, I have to live with MI5?

"So, I have to choose between safety and the man I love?" said Ellie.

Did I really say that? I loved Matthew. Do I love Tom?

Judith took a sip of coffee, "I don't think there is that much danger. Not to you."

"I have a daughter," said Ellie. "I don't want her to get hurt."

"Really?" asked Judith, perking up. "I have a daughter too. My Ally's fifteen. You? Unless you'd rather not say."

Do I have a need to hide Maisie from the world?

"Maisie," said Ellie, reaching into her purse to grab her wallet. "Seven."

She passed her wallet to Judith, pointing out the picture of a smiling Maisie. Judith peered at it, screwing her nose up in a delighted smile.

"Adorable," concluded Judith, passing her own wallet to Ellie.

Ellie flipped open the wallet. The first picture was of a sullen, young blonde girl with the awkwardness of puberty. Ellie flipped to the next picture. There the same young girl was smiling and pretty but a little younger. As she handed the wallet back, Judith looked a little sheepish.

"Teenagers," shrugged Judith. "Can't get them to smile long enough for a photo."

Ellie smiled, "Can't say I know about that yet."

"Oh, you will, dear. You will. One day you'll be the centre of the world, the next you'll be an embarrassment."

"She... Your daughter's never been in any danger? What does she think about the civil service?"

Judith looked away from a moment. Ellie watched Judith's fingers tapping nervously on the coffee cup.

Did I find a sore spot, Judith?

"She doesn't know," said Judith finally. "She thinks her father just works for the civil service."

"You're lying to her," said Ellie. "Lying to your own daughter."

"I don't know how to tell her and keep her safe," said Judith. "Little kids tend to blurt things out. But now that Harry and I waited, I think we waited too long. Teenagers have enough to deal with without finding out that their father has been lying to them for their entire lives."

I don't care. If Tom doesn't tell Maisie, I'm still leaving him.

"People don't like being lied to," said Ellie.

"You have a right to be angry, dear," said Judith. "But try to understand where your man is coming from. The Service prefers agents to pair off with other agents."

Ellie wrinkled her nose distastefully at the reminder.

"I know my Harry had never been with a non-Service woman before me. He'd never had to tell a woman about his job. He kept putting it off," said Judith, tipping more sugar into her coffee. "He put if off until our wedding day. Until we were signing the goddamn registry. He was scared, you see."

"And you forgave him?"

Judith took a sip of her coffee and grimaced, "Ugh. Too much sugar."

"It doesn't matter to you that he lied?" Ellie pressed.

"Well, I did hit him," admitted Judith sheepishly. "I was furious. But I love him. I learned to understand why he did what he did. And he learnt to understand why I felt what I was feeling."

So everybody has to understand everybody else and it'll all be all right? Where's telepathy when you need it?

"At least try, dear," suggested Judith. "Ask him what his other girlfriends have been. Are you his first civilian partner, the first he ever told? If he's had other girlfriends like you, ask him how they reacted? Did they take it calmly or did they throw crockery at him?"

"Crockery?"

Judith blushed, "Not that I ever did that."

"Of course not," said Ellie, trying to keep a straight face.

Judith waved for the waiter again and ordered another cup of coffee. Ellie ordered one as well. Ellie looked at her watch.

"I can't stay much longer," said Ellie. "I've got to pick Maisie up from school at three."

"Well, I've got to pick Ally up at three-thirty," said Judith. "So I guess that is that."

They sat in silence for a moment. As Ellie watched, Judith fiddled with the ring on her finger. As she twirled it, Ellie could see the tan lines that indicated that the ring had been on that finger for a very long time.

Will I ever be with Tom for that long?

"Can we meet again?" asked Ellie.

"Of course, dear," smiled Judith.

She delved into her purse and handed Ellie a business card.

****

Dr. Judith Pearce

Editor and novelist

Games Publishing Inc.

34B Samson Street, London.

On the back was a telephone number and a list of open hours. The name seemed familiar.

"You're a writer?" asked Ellie.

"Oh yes, dear," said Judith. "Romance novels, though god knows that won't ever get you any respect in the publishing world."

A little piece of information slid into place.

"You didn't write _The Other Side of the Gate_, did you?" frowned Ellie.

Judith practically beamed.

"You've read it?" asked Judith.

Ellie tried to suppress a hysterical giggle, "Read it? I have a copy at home."

Judith tried to come up with the proper rely for that but seemed stumped. She opened her mouth a couple of times then shrugged and blushed.

"I must admit that was my personal favourite of all of my books," said Judith. "Even if _Love in the Shadows _did hit the bestseller list."

"I did think _Love in the Shadows_ was a bit more commercial," agreed Ellie. "It seemed too dramatic. Not real enough."

"Exactly what I said to my publisher at the time. _The Other Side of the Gate _was published before I managed to become a partner at the firm so I didn't have much clout back then," explained Judith. "It'd be a different story now, of course."

Ellie looked at the card in her fingers.

"_Dr_ Pearce? On the back page of _Love in the Shadows_ it said that you were trying to complete a degree in psychology," she said slowly.

Judith nodded, "Finished my degree two years ago. Finished my doctorate in psychology last year."

"Psychology would be really helpful for writing about relationships," said Ellie.

"That's what I thought," said Judith. "After all, you can't be nothing but a housewife for twenty years. Do you work, dear?"

"I co-own my own restaurant," said Ellie.

Ellie reached into her own wallet and handed over a business card for her restaurant.

Judith took the card and looked at it carefully.

"Hmm," she said thoughtfully. "Harry and I will have to come and try out the food for ourselves. May be difficult getting Harry to commit, though. He'll run out to work at the drop of a hat."

"I'm getting used to that," said Ellie, checking her watch again. "I really do have to go."

"I'd better get going too," agreed Judith. "Don't hesitate to call me, dear, if you have any questions."

"I won't," said Ellie, and she meant it.

They left the cafe together and split up on the sidewalk. Judith waved as Ellie pulled out onto the street in her car.

Ellie was in front of the TV when Tom came home again that evening. He had come home at lunchtime and told Maisie the truth. They had then spent the rest of the day walking around Alston Towers. Maisie had run around with seemingly endless energy while Tom and Ellie had just walked together. They didn't speak much and Ellie didn't mention Judith. They just walked together and held hands. It reminded Ellie of when they'd first started dating. Then Tom was called back to work.

She took Maisie home by herself, reminding Maisie that she must never tell anybody what Tom did for a living.

"Can I tell Grandma?" asked Maisie.

Ellie smiled, "Why don't you let me talk to her first, okay?"

Whether or not she could tell her own mother was yet another of the things that Ellie did not know. She needed to ask Tom. Maybe she could ask Judith first, so that she could guess what Tom's answer might be.

Maisie had been asleep in bed for twenty minutes by the time Tom came home. Ellie was sitting on the couch, watching the news. She heard the front door open, heard Tom's keys hit the hallway table. He'd only taken a few steps inside the house when his mobile rang and he answered it. She couldn't make out Tom's words and was ashamed to realise how closely she was listening. He hung up and walked into the front room.

She tried to relax and be welcoming.

Think of something normal to say, nothing confrontational.

"Tom, have you seen the news?" she asked.

She frowned and tried to sound as if there was nothing else on her mind. The newsreader was talking about the president of the united states having his plane diverted to France. A small problem with air traffic control, apparently.

Tom walked up behind her and she had to twist around to see him. The determined lack of emotion on his face warned her that something was wrong.

What kind of day have you had, Tom? I know I'm not supposed to ask questions but...

"How was work?" she asked, trying to keep her voice gentle.

Tom sighed, sinking down on his knees so that he could rest his arms on the back on the couch.

I didn't think you'd tell me.

He took her hand gently. He opened his mouth once and closed it again. He blinked several times, watching the newsreader until the story changed.

"A man," he said finally, turning to look at Ellie. "Who believed in a cause, killed himself for love."

He looked away again, "Pointless. Utterly pointless."

A part of Ellie wanted to ask _who _and _why_ but another part of Ellie could hear nothing but the sheer exhaustion in his voice. She squeezed his hand in reassurance and he looked back at her. He smiled at her, gratefully, and Ellie knew that she would stay.

The End


End file.
